


smoke, like memories

by lostinwander (the_silverdoe)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon AU, M/M, Past Lives, Reincarnation, keith: ... a while, keith: 18, shiro: how long have you been 18?, shiro: how old are you?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 00:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13352895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_silverdoe/pseuds/lostinwander
Summary: Keith's entire being depends on finding Shiro.And maybe it’s due in part to his immortality slipping away, but Keith’s been alive for over three centuries — twenty four years should feel like nothing.But when it comes to Shiro, even a single millisecond without him feels like an eternity.





	smoke, like memories

**Author's Note:**

> Happy late birthday to my dear friend [goodtohaveyouback](https://goodtohaveyouback.tumblr.com)!! Ever since I got into the fandom, you've been such a great friend to share edits/tips with and you're the only other person who shares my thirst for Keith to the extreme that we both do. I don't know if this fic falls in line with how you imagined your AU but I tried to absorb the material as best I could and churn out something sweet and intimate! :D I hope you like it!!
> 
> For those who don't know, this is a little drabble for her favorite [dragon AU](https://goodtohaveyouback.tumblr.com/dragon-AU)! Hope it makes sense. ^^;;

When Keith opens his eyes, the first thing he feels is cold.

He looks around. He’s sitting on an exam bed of sorts in a small, sterile room with framed medical diagrams of different body parts lining the walls behind him. A wooden shelf full of pillows, cleaning supplies, and towels sits across from him. From the data he can gather, it’s a doctor’s office. For reasons unknown, he’s alone in it and he’s  _ cold. _

It just doesn’t make sense — this isn’t him. It can’t be.

His immediate reaction is to jump up and make a run for the door, but for some reason, he can’t get his body to move.

_ Paralysis, maybe,  _ he thinks as he tries to flex and unflex his arms. But before he can try anything else that would help, the door opens.

Keith’s jaw drops.

It’s been years, decades, but Keith doesn’t know who he’d be if he didn’t recognize the man that’s just walked in. He’s tall, broad shouldered, with a chiseled jaw, a buzz cut, and a tuft of white hair over his forehead.

_ Shiro? _

Keith tries to form the words, to call out to him, but nothing comes out.

And that’s when it hits him that this is a dream.

And how often, how many times does he have to go through this? Would the memory of Shiro haunt his waking and sleeping steps for the rest of eternity until he found him or died himself?

Shiro gives a smile and a nod as he walks to a nearby chair and sits down in it.

“This is just the initial evaluation so I’m just going to ask a few questions, alright?” he says, looking down at the clipboard in his lap. Keith watches as he runs a finger down the piece of paper, a pen in his prosthetic hand.

“Have you been experiencing any pains in your body?”

_ Yes. Yes, I have. _

“Where?”

_ Everywhere. _

The body Keith is inhabiting — whoever he is — points to different parts of his legs, his arms, his neck.

“Tell me more about yourself and about your condition,” Shiro continues. “How were your motor and physical functions faring before?”

His mouth begins moving, speaking words that are not his own. But Keith has a different answer entirely.

_My condition… isn’t curable,_ Keith thinks. _I had this…_ energy _._ _Like fire. It burned hot and powerful right here in my chest. But I was cursed, Shiro — I’m cursed. And now? All that energy, all that fire… it’s slowly being sapped away._

“How long has it been like this?”

_ Over twenty years. _

“What are your eating and sleeping habits like?”

_ What? _

“I’m just trying to help gauge how this condition has been affecting your life.”

_ How the condition’s been affecting my life?  _ Keith laughs bitterly.  _ My life line is shortening. I’m not immortal anymore and I haven’t got much longer to live. This curse — it drains me everywhere, constantly. It’s never-ceasing. Merciless. And there’s nothing in the world that can stop it. _

“Tell me more.”

_ I’ve been keeping your land safe. I won’t let the Galra take it. But you have to tell me where you are. You have to let me find you. Otherwise it’ll be too late. _

“Don’t fret. After a few private sessions here with me, you’ll be up and running in no time. There’s always a solution, always something we can do to help improve our well being.”

_ You’re right,  _ Keith thinks, a sudden wave of longing and desperation to reach out and touch the man before him wells up inside his chest. _ I need you, Shiro. I need you. _

He has to find him. Keith’s life, his being, his very existence in the entire universe depended on it.

_ I need  _ you _. _

 

* * *

 

When Keith wakes, the sun is still rising. Blinking his eyes open, he sits up and rubs his forehead.

The scene in his mind’s eye begins to slowly slip away, trickling like sand through his fingers. His dreams are getting more vivid but he still can’t fully make sense of it all. Shutting his eyes tight, he tries to remember.

_ Shiro. Doctor’s office. Shiro. Exam bed. Shiro. A doctor. Shiro’s a doctor. Of some sort.  _

He racks his brain harder. This could be it. The search could be coming to a close, at long last.

And maybe it’s due in part to his immortality slipping away, but Keith’s been alive for over three centuries — twenty four years should feel like nothing.

But when it comes to Shiro, even a single millisecond without him feels like an eternity.

_ I need you, Shiro. I need  _ you _. _

And then it hits him. A thought or memory from the dream body he was inhabiting.

_ Takashi Shirogane. Physical therapist. _

It’s the first time in years since a dream has yielded anything practical. It’s not much, but it’s enough. With a little research, Keith can figure out where he needs to go.

 

* * *

 

It’s muggy in the city today, the wet coldness of after-rain still clinging to the air from the night before. Keith walks, hood up, out of the subway station. It isn’t dark just yet, but the sun is starting to set. The neon signs above him are beginning to light up. Several shops and restaurants line the street ahead of him, but Keith knows where he needs to go.

It takes him a few minutes, but he finally finds the place. A plain gray building about forty stories high. After twenty four years, the search ends here.

Keith stops in front of a store across the street and checks the time. 17:25.

He looks back up at the gray building’s entrance. Any minute now.

One blessing about being located here in the middle of Tokyo is that nobody bothers to stop and give him weird looks — there are too many people. For the most part, despite the long hair, Keith always finds a way to blend in. But every once in a while, he swears he gets a few passersby who are oversensitive to his spirit, even with his hood up.

The door to the building opens and Keith straightens up — but it’s just another man in a suit. Several people trickle out after him.

_ Come on… where are you? _

And then, he sees him — and he swears his heart stops.

_ Shiro. _

Just as tall and broad shouldered as Keith remembers him, Shiro steps out into the dying sunlight, rearranges his scarf, and starts heading west.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Keith follows. It’s too good to be true; he’s almost afraid to believe it. Shiro’s alive, he’s  _ real,  _ and he’s so, so,  _ so _ close.

Keith crosses the street, his eyes locked onto Shiro. He’s getting closer and closer and closer…

Heart pounding fast in his chest, Keith reaches out and catches his shoulder.

Shiro stops and turns around. Keith holds his breath.

“Hello,” Shiro says politely. A look of mild confusion crosses his face. “Er — can I help you?”

Keith blinks. They’ve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk in front of an alleyway. He’s got his hand on Shiro’s shoulder, touching —  _ actually touching _ — him, and yet, there’s not a sign or hint of recognition in Shiro’s eyes.

“You don’t…  _ know _ me?” Keith asks.

Shiro frowns. “Have we met before?”

Keith‘s heart sinks. This has to be a mistake. There’s no way this is happening right now.

“It’s me,” he says, his grip tightening on Shiro’s shoulder. “Keith.”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrow as he searches his memories. On the outside, Keith waits patiently. But on the inside, he’s panicking.  _ What if Shiro doesn’t know? What if he’s somehow got the wrong guy? _

“I’m sorry,” Shiro shakes his head. “I don’t think I know you.”

Keith gapes at him, feeling the world fall away beneath him. The longer he stares into this man’s eyes, the more Keith realizes he’s telling the truth.

He doesn’t remember.

“I’m really sorry,” Shiro says again. He’s looking at Keith with a deep sympathy on his face and it’s more than Keith can bear. Even though Shiro has lost so much, he’s still so kind. He’s still Shiro.

“No, I’m sorry,” Keith says, switching tracks at once. He reaches out a hand to him. “Shiro, right?”

The man who resembles Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“Well, my surname is Shirogane,” he says, taking Keith’s hand and shaking it. “But everyone calls me Takashi.”

“Takashi,” Keith repeats. It feels foreign on his tongue. “Uh, I’m Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith,” Takashi chuckles. Something shifts behind his eyes. “So…  _ have  _ we met before?”

Keith shrugs. “In a manner of speaking.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Keith hesitates, unsure how much to tell. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Takashi by unloading everything all at once, but he does need him to know the truth. This isn’t how he pictured their first reunion to go down.

“Well,” he starts. “I’ve been searching for you for a long time.”

“Me?” Takashi blinks. “Why?”

“You’re someone important. Someone I—”

Keith cuts off. Out of the corner of his eye, a purple blur.

One of the Galra. They found him. And worse, it means they’ve found Shiro as well.

“We can’t talk here,” Keith says, gripping Takashi’s arm and ducking into the alleyway on their right. “It isn’t safe.”

“Whoa — where are you taking me?” he asks as Keith drags him along.

“Where do you live?”

“What?”

“Where do you live?”

“Why do you need to—”

“Shir—Takashi.” Keith stops and turns to face him. Gripping both of his arms, Keith pulls him in close.

“I know we just met,” Keith whispers under his breath. “But do you trust me?”

“I—” Takashi’s eyes widen in a mixture of fear and confusion. “I don’t know.”

“I just need to know,” Keith stresses. “Do you trust me?”

Their eyes meet — lost gray ones staring down at fierce violets. Takashi nods.

“I do.”

“Then let’s go,” Keith says, taking his hand and running along. “We need to shake the Galra off our tail.”

“The who?” Takashi cries out from behind, but it’s drowned out in the wind rushing past them as Keith breaks into a sprint.

“I’ll explain later!” Keith yells.

He makes a right, then a left, heading further and further north. Another one of the Galra rounds the corner to their right. Keith ducks into another alleyway out of sight.

Up ahead, he sees a motorcycle. The key has been left in the ignition. A rookie mistake.

Running up to it, he hops on and finds his footing.

“What’re you doing?” Takashi hisses.

“Get on,” Keith says. There’s only one helmet so he grabs it and places it over Takashi’s head. “We  _ have _ to get out of here.”

“But Keith—”

Keith looks up and sees members of the Galra catching up to them from all sides. Grabbing Takashi’s hand, he pulls him onto the motorcycle behind him and revs the engine.

“Hold on tight!”

It’s the last warning he gives before zipping straight through the crowd. Takashi gives a small yelp of surprise from behind but Keith only speeds up faster. He dodges his way through the city, heading straight for the freeway.

The Galra are on his tail immediately: one, two, three motorcycles appear out of nowhere. Keith dips his head low and with the faintest shadow of a smirk, steps on it.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want to tell me what this is all about?” Takashi asks once they’re in the safety of his home. “Who  _ were _ those people?”

Keith is rushing towards every window of the apartment and closing the blinds. The resulting effect leaves them in a dark, dimly lit room.

“I want to trust you but,” Takashi rubs his head, shaking it. “I don’t even know who you are.”

Keith comes back around from dealing with the last window and steps up to him in the hallway.

“You really don’t remember?” he asks.

“No!” Takashi says as he takes off his scarf. “You stole a motorcycle, led us through a highway chase,  then successfully shook those men off our tails — for all I know, you could be a criminal.”

“So why did you let me inside your home?”

“Because I want to know what’s going on,” he replies.

“Is that it?” Keith challenges. “Or is there something more?”

Takashi stares at him for a minute, his gaze scrutinizing. Keith’s heart pounds loudly in his ears.

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “I don’t know why I trusted you. But even if it’s from something I can’t remember, I feel like… I feel like I know you.”

Keith looks down at his feet, thinking. If the Shiro he knew were here, Keith knows what he would’ve told him.  _ Be patient. Let him learn at his own pace. _

Looking back up at Takashi, Keith asks, “Have you ever felt like you were destined for something else? Or perhaps, some other life?”

“I think everyone asks themselves that at least once in their lives,” Takashi says.

“Well,” Keith continues. “What if I told you you were something else in another life?”

“How do you mean?”

Keith pauses, then takes a step closer.

“I think that ‘something more’ you mentioned — you feel it deep down,” Keith says. “You may not recognize it yet, but you know you’re meant for something else.”

“Like what?”

Keith takes a deep breath and lowers his hood. He knows what he’s about to do would go against what Shiro always said about patience but he doesn’t care. He has to do this his own way.

Closing his eyes, he draws his mind into focus. A faint light glows behind his eyelids. He hears a sharp intake of breath from Takashi, and then—

“What… what _ are _ you?”

Keith opens his eyes to see Shiro staring straight at the horns on his head. At least he’s taking it a lot better than he’d expected.

“Dragon,” Keith says simply.

“I — I don’t understand.” There’s fear and shock on Takashi’s face; Keith supposes he can’t blame him. Subtlety has never been his strong suit. “How is this possible?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Keith says. “But this is our reality.”

“ _ Our _ reality?” Takashi asks.

“Yes, you were once like me, too, in another life.”

Takashi backs away until he’s leaning against the door for support.

“Why wouldn’t I know this?” His voice is low, cracked. It’s the opposite of what Keith wants. He never wanted to scare him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

“This all just sounds so crazy.” Takashi takes a seat on the entryway bench next to his front door. “Who were the other men?”

“They’re from a group known as the Galra,” Keith replies. “They’ve been looking for you as long as I have.”

“Why?”

Keith hesitates, unsure how much to reveal all at once. In the end, he still settles for the truth.

“They’re affiliated with the spirit dragon of the underworld,” he says. “You were an air spirit dragon. They’ve been trying to find and corrupt you and turn you into a dragon of their own.”

Takashi puts his head in his hands. In his other life, if Shiro ever looked this way, Keith would’ve automatically placed a hand in his shoulder in a comforting manner. It would’ve been the natural, obvious thing to do. Now, however, he isn’t sure.

“And…” Takashi lifts his head up to look up at him. “How long have you been looking for me?”

Keith looks down at the ground, knowing that the answer will only spark more questions. “Twenty four years or so.”

Takashi’s eyes widen. “How is this possible?”

Keith closes his eyes and withdraws the horns.

“I know you have a lot of questions, and it’ll take time to answer them all, but I can teach you.”

Deciding to take the chance, Keith takes a seat next to him and places a tentative hand on his shoulder. To his surprise, Takashi leans into it. Their eyes meet.

“You once taught me everything I know about being a dragon and a fighter,” Keith continues. “Let me return the favor.”

“I’m going to need some time,” Takashi tells him. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Just answer me this,” Keith says. “Do you trust me?”

Takashi blinks but doesn’t turn away from his gaze. Keith watches as he comes to his own conclusion.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “I do.”

For what feels like the first time in an eternity, Keith smiles. The rest can come later. For now, Keith reaches out and takes his hand.

And although none of this has happened the way he expected, although he’s still so far from being free of his curse, it’s been more than twenty four years of searching for Shiro. He’ll take whatever he can get.

With a small smile, Keith squeezes Takashi’s hand.

It’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hello to me on [tumblr](https://flusteredkeith/tumblr.com) and/or [twitter](https://twitter.com/flusteredkeith)!


End file.
